


Steer By The Right North Star

by confusedkayt



Series: Stay the Course [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Star Trek: Into Darkness Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:31:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confusedkayt/pseuds/confusedkayt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Jim talked Bones into staying, even though the damn kid had no idea he was doing any such thing.</p><p>MAJOR STAR TREK INTO DARKNESS SPOILERS</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steer By The Right North Star

Well, hell. It's not that he doesn't have faith in Jim, exactly. The kid's heart is in the right place, and he's got one hell of a brain on him, when he can be troubled to use it. It was enough to coax him onto this tin can a year ago. But now.... He can't shake the feeling that they're show ponies tarted up as explorers, and that there's not a single goddamn adult running the show back home. Hard to have faith, is all, when they lost goddamn near a whole cadet class and now half the top brass are out for the count, and the lord alone knows how many of the ones that left were in cahoots with that lizard Marcus. The man was off the reservation, to be sure, but funding don't come from nowhere and that warship couldn't've come cheap. There's no missing it - Starfleet's either putting scare quotes around peacekeeping these days or they're goddamn incompetents, and he's not sure which scares him more. And he's not the only one. It's not exactly soothing to see Scotty, Keenser and Spock comb through every last rivet on the ship in dry dock. It's enough to make a man wish he could tell whether the tinkering they're doing is a bunch of engineers who won't leave well enough alone or a bunch of engineers finding a few more little gifts from the not so dearly departed Admiral. It says something that it makes him feel better that the damn ship was battered more than half to hell and had to be rebuilt more or less from the ground up.

And Jim... Dammit, the last thing he needed was good solid proof that his gut's always better than the guys who make the rules. Pike had been halfway to civilizing Jim - and there's a goddamn shame and a half. Hell of a man, that one. Bones would feel a damn sight better if he were sitting in the big chair. Komack's always seemed like a solid guy but who the hell knows anymore. Only so much pressure civilians can put on an organization like Starfleet. Their secrets have secrets and ten days ago he would've thought there was good reason for it. But now... Now he's got some thinking to do, is all. It seems downright immoral to leave seventy-three cryotubes of super-soldiers chock full of super-blood behind in what might just be a nest of jackals. He can't shake the feeling that the higher ups're trying to get rid of the lot of them, most especially poor ol' Carol Marcus, by-the-book Spock and Federation Golden Boy Jimmy Kirk.

Well, speak of the devil. Only one idiot with the clearance to barge in to these quarters without knocking, and if it wouldn't gut the kid he'd revoke access just to teach him some manners. "Jim," he says, and it sounds bitter and mean and tired. Go figure.

"Bones," he says, and there's no spark in it. He swipes Bones' best bottle off the table and takes a swig right from it.

"How many times do I gotta tell you to get a damn glass," he grumbles, but his heart's not in it.

Jim's chuckle is tired, perfunctory. He's silent, and there's something heavy in it. "Might not have to worry about it for much longer."

"What the hell's that s'posed to mean?"

Jim sighs. His shoulders slump, then square, and hell if anything good has ever followed that gesture. "Might've just finished up my career at Starfleet, is what that means." Another heavy silence, and hell if Bones'll fill it. "I just... I should've told you before I..."

"Told me what?" Bones growls. That's well and truly alarming.

"It was your breakthrough, everybody knows it, but I just..." Jim takes a deep breath. "I called Sarek. Told him all about Khan, his crew, the blood. Everything."

Bones blinks. "He has clearance for that?"

"Who the hell knows?" Jim chuckles, grim. "All I know is, there are twenty very politely insistent members of the Vulcan Science Academy at Starfleet Headquarters as we speak. They're gonna take Khan and his crew and study 'em. They're not exactly prepared to take no for an answer."

Bones blinks again, slow, lets that sink in. He takes a long pull of his brandy. "Well that's... That's something."

Jim steals Bones' glass right from his fingers, fidgets with the rim. "Computer, stop recording. Authorization code Kirk alpha-alpha-gamma-zed." He pauses, waits for the polite beep that means his code's been accepted. "I wasn't sure I could trust Starfleet with them. Not after..." A heavy, helpless gesture. Defeat's not a good look, not on this one. "If there's a way to make this into medical advances without military implications, Vulcan Science will find it." A pause. "I'm sorry. I should've asked you..."

"Nah, kid," and his voice is rough, rougher than he knew it'd be. "You did the right thing."

"Thanks, Bones," he says, and there's a little of that honest warmth in the tone.

There's a lot of things he could say but none of 'em really need saying, not when he can top up the brandy and sit there shoulder-to-shoulder with Jim, sharing a drink with his friend - his captain - and stare at the white, white wall.


End file.
